


heat wave

by asexuelf



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Adorable Merrill (Dragon Age), Anders & Fenris (Dragon Age) Friendship, F/M, Flirting, Friendship, Hot Weather, Humor, Partial Nudity, Summer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-09 05:00:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20505434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asexuelf/pseuds/asexuelf
Summary: Hawke and her friends suffer through the Justinian heat.





	heat wave

**Author's Note:**

> wrote this when it was like 110°f outside and id come in from a run but never finished it... it's starting to cool off a bit, so i figured why not fix it up to post before it's too late! :p it's just a silly little thing, but i hope you enjoy!

It was blisteringly hot in Kirkwall. The Free Marches didn't catch many heat waves (or many snowfalls), but that didn't stop the month of Justinian from sweltering or the Waking Sea from boiling. And it certainly didn't stop the lot of Hawke's companions lazing about her home, bored out of their minds and sticky to boot.

Isabela had stripped entirely, laying splayed out on Hawke's loveseat in her smalls, with Anders not far behind. He'd shucked his coat days ago, leaving only a weather-beaten white shirt (lost somewhere amongst Isabela's clothes) and rolled-up dark trousers, sweat sticking them both to his body as he laid on his back near the long-snuffed out fireplace. Merrill was in her smalls as well, though they covered more than Isabela's, being traditionally elvhen in nature, with a small amount of ice she'd cast placed against her forehead. Fenris had deigned to keep his clothing (sans armor), but seemed closer and closer to removing them as time went. Varric was much the same, his coat opened to reveal the entirety of his chest.

Hawke was dressed down to pants and breastband and seemed torn between standing by the window and lying face-down on the carpet. If not for the ever-present stench of dog, she'd likely keep her window sitting to a minimum, but such was not the case.

The lot of them had been lying around the entire morning, stopping on occasion to guzzle water and eat chilled fruit. It had grown tired rather quickly, but there wasn't much else to do. It was too hot to pay attention to cards - and to the Void with anyone who thought Hawke's crew would be taking on jobs in that kind of weather. Plus, the two easiest targets for making fun, Sebastian and Aveline, were off doing… Well, Chantry brother-y and Kirkwall guard-y things, respectively, they imagined.

"Bugger them for being busy," Hawke grumbled. "And bugger Sebastian twice 'cause he needs it."

"Only because you want to be the one to do it, sweet thing!"

A rare sound escaped Fenris from his place on the floor by Isabela, light and giggly, and, at the mention of buggery, he poked his foot flirtatiously against her bare side. 

She responded in kind, humming and reaching quick hands to grab at his calf. She brought his knee closer, but he knew her well and pulled away before she could bite him.

He spread his legs slightly in response and stuck out his tongue, grinning. 

"Stop being horny, please. I'm trying to keep my lunch down." Anders' voice was apathetic, as if the heat had leached any emotion from it. Like a dry bone in the sand.

"Spoil sport." But the two stopped and went back to sweating for lack of anything better to do.

The whole lot of them were sweating, actually - it made the floor of Hawke's estate stick to their skin. Maker only knew what kind of filth stuck with it. 

"Better than Darktown," Anders had quipped when Merrill mentioned it. "There's a bit of breeze there, air hitting the old mining tunnels, but Maker, the grime- and the _ smell…_"

Isabela snorted. "You think that's bad? Don't go in the Hanged Man."

"Agreed." And the mourning in Varric's voice had been the thing to keep them all from drowning their sweaty sorrows in cheap ale.

With her flirting shut down, Isabela rolled off the seat, groaning, to land on top of Fenris ("Ouch."). She groaned like a ship fighting against the currents of a hurricane. She groaned like harsh wind through Gamlen's little hovel. She groaned like a woman who was extremely, incomprehensibly bored.

Fenris laughed again underneath her, though there was so little energy in his chuckle that it sounded sarcastic.

For a while, there was no sound but heavy breathing and the cruel tick of the grandfather clock, until suddenly Merrill said, "We should go to the Wounded Coast."

Varric cursed under his breath. "Daisy, we love you - and _ I _ love you - but hot sand on a hot day is _ not _ what the healer ordered." He gestured to Anders, who, as proof, did not argue.

"Oh, Varric, you just don't want to go outside!"

Hawke laughed, but Varric grumbled over her, "Of course I don't! It's hotter than a dragon's asscrack today!"

The foul language made Merrill giggle - that or the heat-exhaustion. They were all feeling a little giggly, in that hysterical way exhausted people sometimes do. "Not if you get in the water, silly. It's nice and cool then."

A moment of silence passed. It was as if the word _ water _ was enough to give all of them pause, lost in their own little mirajes. And then slowly, they all began to stand.

"I'm a fool," groaned Isabela. "How could I forget the way the sea chases away heat?"

"You're a pirate."

"I'm a _ pirate_, Fenris!"

No one else paid much attention to that, however, not even long enough to tease her for it, so focused were they on throwing on enough clothes to avoid being arrested. That would be just their luck, to be thrown in a sweaty jail cell by an equally sweaty Aveline as soon as they'd found a way to cool off. 

Once dressed again, the heat was even more unbearable, and would continue to be after they walked out of the house and into the beating sun.

Anders huffed, crossing his arms. "If there weren't any bloody Templars, I could just have a lyrium potion or two and cast some ice for us all!"

"Perhaps you'll get lucky, mage," Fenris said, propping himself up on Isabela's shoulder. He looked wobbly, like he was about to fall into a puddle of elf goo. "And the Templars will melt before we do."

"And look, we've already got some lyrium!" Isabela poked at a line of tattoo at the side of Fenris' throat, causing him to hiss half-heartedly.

"You haven't _ got _ anything, harlot."

"When you call me sweet names, darling, it tells me you care." And if the puppy-eyed smirk Fenris shot her meant anything, it was that she wasn't entirely wrong.

Anders did the very helpful and mature thing of pretending to wretch. Varric, who hadn't heard the conversation and wasn't entirely sure what the gagging was in reference to, joined in.

"Oh no!" Merrill put her hands to her stomach nervously. "Was the fruit we ate off? It didn't taste bad…"

Before anyone could answer, Hawke came bounding to the door, arms full of weapons for her friends. "Now, I can tell you there _ won't _be any bandits, seeing as Kirkwall has been placed into the searing pit hair of our immolated Andraste, but it's better to be safe than sorry."

The rest agreed and sluggishly stuck the weapons to their person. They wouldn't need to burden themselves with drawing the weapons, they told themselves. Certainly the dog would kill any baddies before they had to.

And then they were off, Hawke and her hound at the lead.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! 💚


End file.
